


Talking Bodies

by Beguile



Category: Daredevil (TV), Iron Fist (TV), Jessica Jones (TV), Luke Cage (TV), The Defenders (Marvel TV)
Genre: Alcoholism, Body Swap, Depression, Gen, Magic, The Real Superpower Was Friendship All Along, a little crack-y, in-fighting, putting the fun in dysfunctional
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-26
Updated: 2019-01-26
Packaged: 2019-09-05 23:34:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16820683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beguile/pseuds/Beguile
Summary: "You just called me Danny.” Jessica points to her own body menacingly before storming back towards ‘Starr’ or whatever her name is. “You need to fix this. Right now.”“Fix what?” Starr asks.“THIS,” the four say in unison.“We’ve been body-swapped!” Jessica says.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: the characters and concepts in this story are the property of Marvel and their related affiliates. This is an amateur writing effort meant for entertainment purposes only.
> 
> Written for a prompt on Tumblr, now on AO3 for you to enjoy!

* * *

Talking Bodies

The woman – her nametag says Starr, but in quotation marks, so it’s unclear if that’s her real name or a pseudonym specifically for her job – casts a glance between the ragtag quartet standing around her sales counter, her right eyebrow rising so high it nearly disappears into her hairline.

After an interminable silence, she says, “I’m sorry. What did you say?”  
  
“UGH.” Jessica fights the urge to put her fist through a wall. The damn thing won’t stop glowing.

“Take it easy, Danny,” her own voice tells her. And then, upon realizing the error, “Erm…Jess.”  
  
“You just called me Danny.” She points to her own body menacingly before storming back towards ‘Starr’ or whatever her name is. “You need to fix this. Right now.”  
  
“Fix what?” Starr asks.

“THIS,” the four say in unison.

“We’ve been body-swapped!” Jessica says. She gestures at the skin-tight number currently grabbing her – well, Danny – in all the weird places. “This is not me.”  
  
“Or me,” Luke agrees from inside her body.

“Or me,” Matt adds. He’s hovering from the back of the shop in Luke’s body.

Matt’s own body is nearby, arms folded across his chest. “I don’t know what the problem is,” Danny says from inside the Devil mask. He rises from the bookshelves and moves slowly into the fray. “It’s jarring, I’ll admit, but we can adjust. Adapt, if need be.” He jumps back. Sirens suddenly appear in the distance, then fade again. “Wow. Is this how you have to be all the time?”

“What?” Matt asks.

“So focused,” Danny says, still marvelling. “I thought harnessing my chi was difficult, but your senses…they require constant calibrating. Do you meditate?”  
  
Matt looks to the shopkeeper. “Please fix this. Now.”  
  
“Me?” Starr asks.

“Yes, you,” Jessica says. The terror on the woman’s face gets to her. She realizes she’s got the glowing fist of doom poised at her side. She hides it behind her back. To Danny: “How the hell do you turn this thing off?”  
  
“The fist is fueled by energy and can be triggered by emotion.” Danny circles around the shop, following a sensation only he has access to. “If you just calm down –“  
  
“I AM CALM.”

“Jess,” Luke says.

“Stop,” Jessica puts the glowing hand between them. “I can’t look at you when you’re me.”

Luke levels his Jessica-gaze onto the shopkeeper. “Miss, if you wouldn’t mind. We were fighting a person who frequents this shop. She muttered a bunch of words, set fire to an offering, and the next thing we knew –“

“We’ve explained this to her five times now!” Jessica says. 

Danny reaches hands to his ears. “Is this how loud we are to you?”  
  
“Not right now,” Matt mutters angrily.

“Something wrong with my ears, Murdock?” Luke – as Jess – asks him.

“Let’s just make this right,” Matt says.

“Oh, what are you complaining about, Murdock? For once, we don’t have to worry about you getting your ass broken in a fight,” Jessica says.

“We do have to worry about you and your glowing fist,” Luke notes.

“What is she doing with it? It’s hard to track her with everything…” Danny gestures to the shop. “…everything.” He grips his heart and thinks for a long while. “Matt, is there…is there something…?”  
  
“Words, Danny,” Matt urges darkly.

“It’s just…I can hear your heartbeats: Jessica’s angry, you’re angry, Luke is calm, but I feel…I don’t know what I feel. It’s strange. It’s almost…bored?”

Matt grimaces and sets his jaw in a harder line than Luke ever would. “Miss…Starr, would you please undo whatever’s been done?”  
  
“Why can’t I feel anything except bored?” Danny asks.

Starr looks between them. “Uh…I can…just give me a minute.” She steps into the back of the shop. “Where’s the book…?”

Danny – as Matt – turns to Matt – as Luke. “Are you alright, Matt?”  
  
“Not now, Danny.”

“This isn’t right, guys,” Danny implores the others. “I don’t feel right. In my own body, I felt anger and rage, but I also felt happiness and excitement and gratitude. Matt, I’m having a hard time feeling those things. I mean _really_ feeling them.”   
  
Matt crosses his arms and stands, impassive, near the windows.

“Danny, maybe that’s something we discuss later,” Luke suggests.

“Or not at all,” Jessica adds.

Danny doesn’t listen to them. “Matt, are you alright?”  
  
Starr chooses that moment to come back into the room, her arms heavy-laden with an old tome. She points to a page in the book. “Okay!” she breathes a sigh of relief. “Good news! The effects of body switching are temporary. Give it a day or two, you should all be back in your own bodies.”

“What’s the bad news?” Matt asks.

“Yeah,” Jessica agrees.

“Nope, no bad news,” Starr says, slamming the book shut. “I mean…unless being stuck in each other’s bodies for the next day or two sounds like bad news.”

Luke shrugs. “I think I can manage.”

“I’m really worried about you,” Danny says directly to Matt.

Matt says nothing. He looks off into the middle distance.

Jessica huffs. She goes to put her hand into her hands, but the glowing fist stops her. “Oh, God damn it. I’m going to poke my damn eye out with this thing.”  
  
“Stop charging it,” Danny tells her.

“HOW?!” Jessica demands.

“Um,” Starr asks, “Is there anything else I can do for you?”

Danny continues: “Stop being angry. Breathe in with gratitude; breathe out your negativity.”

“This is ridiculous.” Jessica storms over to the door. “Thanks for nothing, Sabrina.” She reaches out her glowing hand.

“Danny.” Luke winces. “I mean, Jess –“  
  
She doesn’t hear. The fist makes contact. The door blows off its hinges, and Jessica -as Danny – flies off her feet and into the sales counter.

Starr drops the book in shock. She flees for the back room of the shop. “Screw this. I’m calling the cops.”  
  
“Time to go,” Luke says. He offers his hand to Jessica, but then thinks better of it. This isn’t his hand or his skin. “On second thought, Matt, if you wouldn’t mind.”  
  
Matt walks toward her and offers his – Luke’s – hand. Jessica reaches out of the debris and takes it. “Well,” she groans glumly, “At least it’s not glowing anymore.”

“Everybody else okay?” Luke asks. “Aside for…the stuff Danny mentioned?”

“Fine,” Matt says.

“Yeah,” Jess says, “I could use…” she stops, thinks about it. “Weird.”

“What?” Danny demands, concern sharpening his voice.

“I don’t need a drink,” Jessica replies, bewildered.

“You mean Danny doesn’t need a drink,” Matt says.

Luke starts: “Is that what I’m feeling?” He holds his hands up; they’re shaking. He puts them into the pockets of the leather jacket. “I need a drink.”  
  
“Yeah, you earned one,” Jessica says. She’s a little unsteady on her feet. “Tell you what I am though: I am hungry.”

“It’s what happens when I use my chi,” Danny clarifies. “I could really use some food too. All this focusing…Matt, did you eat anything today?”

“I had court today,” Matt replies.

“What does that -?”  
  
“It means no.”  
  
“So we’re going to get something to eat, then?” Luke asks, He puts Jessica’s strength to use by picking up the door she blasted off the building and holding it aloft while they make their way out.

“Yeah,” Matt agrees for the rest of their behalf, “But uh…Luke…would you mind if I did something first?”  
  
Luke raises a brow, concerned. “You are not allowed to throw yourself off a building. I still break.”  
  
“No, no. I wanted…would it be alright if I went to see Foggy? I’d uh…”

Luke’s expression softens in a way that Jessica’s would never. Jessica can’t look at herself. She ducks a head behind Danny’s shoulder to keep from seeing that girl, the one she hasn’t seen in a long time.

“Invite him along,” Luke says at last. “We don’t even have to tell him you’re me.”  
  
“We could pretend to be each other!” Danny suggests.

Matt actually gives a small laugh. “Sweet Christmas,” he says, beaming.

“Ugh…as long as we get food!” Jessica shouts. She walks out of the building.

Danny takes Matt by the arm. “Can we talk later? When we’re back?”

Matt doesn’t say anything at first, but then, under his breath, so only his ears can hear, “Yes, Danny. We can talk.”  
  
Luke smiles after them and follows them out the door.

“Stop making my face do that, Cage, or I swear, I’ll punch myself out,” Jessica says.

Luke calls into the shop. “We’ll be in touch about the damage to your door!” He puts it back in the frame and catches up with the rest of them, gasping only after a short run, “No wonder you hate cardio so much, Jess.” 

* * *

Happy reading!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: the characters and concepts in this story are the property of Marvel and their related affiliates. This is an amateur writing effort meant for entertainment purposes only.
> 
> …this is turning into a multi-chapter story. Oh, my goodness gracious. 
> 
> I can see at least one more installment after this. No telling when it’ll be up (so sorry! After finishing my last multi-chapter, I’m not holding myself to any schedules). Please, enjoy! Have a good day and happy holidays, everyone!

* * *

Foggy arrives to a locked door and a closed sign, but he follows the instructions included in the text message to be let inside. He can see the table through the window, the four hooligans or whatever they’re calling themselves this week surrounded by dim sum, their plates varying degrees of full.

“Good to see you, Nelson,” Jessica says, sounding downright cheery. She gets a look from Danny – a look that Foggy has never seen cross Danny’s face before: downright murderous. He tries to hold onto the image, but the expression fades. Danny goes back to loading up his plate.

Luke stares at him from across the table.

Foggy waves. “Hello, Luke.”

No response. Luke continues staring. He tilts his head a little, curious.

“God damn it,” Danny grumbles, “How many of these things can you put away?”

“Oh, as many as I possibly can.”

Foggy raises a brow and breaks eye contact with Luke. “Matt?”

Matt grins. Mask off, no glasses, dimples in full force: “Foggy! Join us!” He shoves a whole dumpling into his mouth. “I can’t believe how good these taste! I can’t believe how good everything tastes! I mean I can literally taste everything!”

“Take it easy,” Luke tells him.

“Easy?” Matt says. “I didn’t realize how complex flavour could be.”

Danny steals the dumpling straight out of Matt’s chopsticks and shoves it into his mouth. With his hand. His bare hand.

Foggy steps back from the table, taking stock: Danny is not using chopsticks, Matt is like a freaking pro, Luke is staring at him again, and Jessica is clearing her throat like she’s trying to call the table to order.

“Uh, guys,” she says, “Chill, okay? We talked about this was going to go.”

“You guys talked about how this was going to go,” Danny says, pointing a grease covered finger around the table. He picks up a steamed bun and starts into it ravenously, still speaking. “I never agreed to your crazy plan.” 

“Uh…” Foggy removes his satchel, but he makes no effort to sit down. This whole scene feels a lot like _The Twilight Zone_ , and Luke is still staring at him. He puts his bag on the back of the chair with shaking hands. “Rough night?”  
  
Jessica tosses her head. “Same old.”

“You could say that,” Luke adds quietly.

“Total shit,” Danny says.

“Wasn’t the worst,” Matt adds with a shrug.

He’s still smiling.

“Okay, what is that?” Foggy says. “That right there! What is this? All of this? Something is up, and I want to know what the hell it is!”  
  
“Calm down, Foggy,” Luke urges.

“You calm down!”

“Nelson,” Jess adds.

“No! I won’t calm down! Danny, you look like you’re going to murder somebody! Jessica, you don’t look like you’re going to murder somebody! Matt, I don’t even know what is up with you! And stop staring at me, Luke! It’s scaring the crap out of me!” Foggy casts a glance between the four of them, a little ashamed when he notices Luke’s eyes down and away, dodging him.

He’s seen that look before.

Foggy looks around the table again, this time with fresh eyes: Luke’s downcast stare, Danny’s deadpan expression, Matt’s wide-eyed innocence, Jessica’s cool demeanour. He puts a hand on the chair to ground himself, and he wills himself to look back at Luke.

“Matt?” he asks. “Matt, is that…?”

Luke raises his eyes to meet Foggy’s.

Foggy shakes his head. He rubs his eyes. “I’m crazy,” he says, but he doesn’t totally believe it. He can’t, not with that image in his head of Luke looking away from him. “I’m losing it, just like the rest of you. It spread to me –“  
  
“Foggy.” Luke stares him down. “You’re not crazy. It’s…I’m…”

The shrug helps, but it’s the small smirk that does it, that sad smile that crooks up one side of Luke’s face. Foggy puts a hand over his mouth. “Oh, my God, Matt,” he says. “Oh, Matt. Matt, are you okay? Are you all okay? Oh, my God, can you see? Are you looking at me right now?”  
  
The smile broadens, and there’s definitely tears glistening in Luke’s eyes. “Yes, Foggy. I can see you.”  
  
Foggy slaps the back of a chair. “I’m sorry, buddy,” he’s got tears in his eyes too, “Now you have to live with the disappointment.”  
  
Luke – Matt – laughs. “My only disappointment is that I don’t get to see you with your college hair.”

“Well, how long does this last, buddy? We could make that happen.”

“Day or two,” Matt tells him. “That’s all that time I’ve got.”

“We better make it count then!” Foggy says. “What do you want to see? Where can we go? Provided uhh…” he looks around the table and settles on Jessica, who is undoubtedly Luke, “Provided you’re alright with him touring the city like this?”  
  
“I’m okay with that, so long as I come back in one piece,” Jessica – er, Luke says. 

“It is so weird to hear you talk without swearing,” Foggy notes.

“I talk without swearing,” Jessica says from inside Danny. Her fist begins glowing. “Ah, shit. Not again.”

Danny lets Matt’s smile fade at long last. “Breathe, Jessica. In with gratitude.”

“God damn, if you weren’t inside Matt’s body, I would break your jaw.”

“I think you’ve already done enough property damage for one night, Jess.”  
  
Foggy can’t. This is too much. He rubs at his eyes again. The in-fighting takes on a whole new level of ridiculous when it’s happening between different bodies. “How did this happen?”  
  
“We did battle with a sorceress. She used a body-swapping spell to – what? What is it?”

“It’s just…” but Foggy can’t explain it. He’s staring at Matt, but it’s not Matt. Not the cadence of his voice, not the expression on his face, not the way he carries himself. Even knowing it’s Danny doesn’t make it any easier. Foggy straightens and puts on his best brave face for the rest of the explanation. “It’s nothing. You were fighting a sorceress?”

Matt takes over: “So it would seem,” but it’s no better. Matt’s words in Luke’s voice is just as uncanny as Danny’s words in Luke’s voice. “Evidently the effects reverse themselves.”  
  
“Yeah, you were saying.”  
  
“Foggy,” Danny/Matt rises from the table and exudes his zen master wisdom and grace, giving Foggy another case of the heebie-jeebies from how wrong this is. “It’s going to be alright.”  
  
“Yeah, you told me,” Foggy says.

“You should sit down, Nelson,” Luke/Jessica tells him.

Foggy shakes his head. “No, I don’t think I can.” He catches a glimpse of Matt/Luke pulling himself out of his chair, and oh, God, the eyes, that softness in Luke’s stare, being looked at, it’s too much. All the excitement from before gets lost in a wave of guilt because this isn’t about him, but he can’t help how bizarre this is.

“Foggy,” Matt says from across the table.

The tone breaks Foggy: “It’s just so weird!”

Jessica/Danny scoffs. “Hell yeah, it’s weird.” She finishes the last of the dim sum nearest her with a flourish and settling back in her seat. She shakes her iron fist, trying to get the glow to disappear. “And annoying. How am I supposed to sleep with this thing?”

Danny sinks back down next to her. “You should probably meditate tonight.”  
  
“You’re kidding, right?”

“I can show you. Matt’s body needs to meditate tonight, too.” Danny flits Matt’s eyes over – weird, because Matt normally uses his head, but Foggy’s brain catches up with him: Danny’s used to using his eyes. “Matt’s body needs a lot more than that.”  
  
“Not the time, Danny,” Luke intones from his side of the table.

Danny nods once, but he tosses a sightless glance in Matt’s direction, implying that it’s will be the time eventually. Matt ignores him, fixing his eyes on Foggy.

Foggy finally brings himself to take a seat at the table. “So are you…okay? All of you?”  
  
Luke shrugs in a way Jessica never would. “It is what it is. Seems like it’s a simple matter of our selves being in different bodies. We have our own memories.”  
  
“But each other’s metabolisms,” Jessica says, and the way rolls her eyes makes Foggy laugh. He’s never seen Danny Rand give that few fucks before in his life.

“And each other’s addictions,” Luke notes.

“We’re not talking about that shit,” Jessica warns him. “Not Danny and not you. Not unless you want me and Matt spilling the beans on all your guys’s shit too.”  
  
“What shit?” Foggy asks. His eyes go straight to where they’ll get the most information: Luke. Er… “Matt?”  
  
Matt shuffles uncomfortably in his seat, trying to get away from the question. “We’re still adjusting to each others’ physiologies, and some of us have made some observations.”  
  
“You not feeling things is not just an observation,” Danny says.

“Your feeling too much is,” Jessica snaps. “No wonder this fist keeps going off. Zen master over here has a temper on him.”

Now, Danny sounds like Matt: “You’ve got a temper on you.”  
  
Foggy ignores them and looks Matt dead in the eye: “You don’t feel things?”

Luke sighs. “Danny, that isn’t for you to say.”

“It isn’t for me to say that my friend needs help?” Danny says.

“Not like this.”  
  
“Not your body,” Jessica says, her eyes scanning the table for more dumplings.

Matt’s silence speaks volumes, far more in Luke’s body than his own. He can’t shrink inside Luke. He can’t hide. “I said we would talk about it later,” he says.

“Can we talk about it later too?” Foggy asks. “I’d really like to be in on the Matt-not-having-feelings conversation.”

Matt nods once, but it’s his trick-nod, the sort of thing he does when he just wants the conversation to be over.

Foggy gives him a reprieve. They all need a break. He looks around at the empty platters of food, searching for things that Jessica/Danny hasn’t eaten. “Umm..” is it appropriate to order? Or are they done for the night.

“Fuck, you’re a bottomless pit,” Jessica says, raising her fist into the air. “Another round of everything!” she calls to the serving staff. She shrugs as she lowers her hand. “First time all night I haven’t set the damn thing off.”  
  
“In with gratitude,” Danny reminds her.

Foggy tries that exercise, but it’s hard to be grateful knowing what he now does about Matt. Harder, still, when he wonders if Matt knew and just didn’t say anything, or if took Danny Rand ending up in his body to know that something was up. 

* * *

Happy Reading!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: the characters and concepts in this story are the property of Marvel and their related affiliates. This is an amateur writing effort meant for entertainment purposes only.
> 
> Apologies for the delay! I’ve been busy getting back to work these past couple weeks. There will likely be one more installment after this, maybe two, following Danny, Luke, and Jessica’s journeys. But this is the story I felt most comfortable writing at the moment. I hope you enjoy!

* * *

Matt is grateful for Luke. He couldn’t imagine the shock of an out-of-body experience inside Jessica or Danny. His meditation techniques are fitting easily into the hard-wired connections of Luke’s psychology, allowing him to accept that his senses are different here. They control themselves. For once, his ears and nose are just along for the ride; his eyes are doing all the work.

And, God, what work. The shock never wears off. It simmers in the back of his mind, a constant buzz in his nerves. Luke’s body stays cool and collected, but internally, Matt is jumpy, agitated. His reflexes go wild. His head tosses between every flicker of neon, every flash of movement, every shadow in his periphery. Foggy keeps asking him if he wants to stop, but no, Matt doesn’t. He wants to take it all in, the chaos of it. He wants to watch the sunrise over the East River, and he wants to see his old house, and he wants to see Karen, Father Lantom, Maggie. He wants to see it all before things go dark again.

It is exhausting though. At first, Matt assumes it’s because Luke doesn’t have the same stamina, but then he realizes it’s probably him. He doesn’t know what to do with hearing that regulates itself. He’s the one taking in all the sights with the same intensity he normally reserves for honing his senses. He’s the one wearing himself down.

“Want to take a break?” Foggy offers.

“No,” Matt says. He doesn’t want to waste a minute, no matter the headache he’s starting to get. “Do you?”   
  
“No.”

The tone – Matt thinks he recognizes it, but he can’t tell. Luke’s ears are designed like his. It could be his imagination, or it could be that Foggy is tired but won’t admit it. Would be really helpful to be able to hear a heartbeat right now… “You sure?” Matt asks.

“Yeah, I’m sure.”   
  
“Because we can stop now.”   
  
“Matt,” Foggy says, “I’m fine. Okay?”

Matt shakes his head apologetically. “I’m sorry, Foggy.”   
  
“Got nothing to be sorry for, buddy. Gotta be weird – seeing the world through someone else.”   
  
“Seeing the world at all,” Matt adds. Time’s Square was a trip. He doesn’t remember it being so bright as a kid, or maybe that’s the decades of darkness tinting his vision. Tonight, the lights glowed and danced. Tourists streamed through the crosswalks. Cameras flashed, traffic buzzed, music blared from storefronts. And though it was overwhelming, Matt never felt overwhelmed. He never felt out of control. His mind was a safe space, able to take it in without building walls or dodging stimuli.

He takes out his phone. Luke’s phone. Remembers himself and puts the device away. He’ll thank Luke later, in person, when he’s seeing the world through his own senses again. For now, “Let’s get away from these lights.”   
  
“Sure thing,” Foggy says.

Matt thinks he hears his friend huffing. “Let’s get a cab.”   
  
“It’s fine. I’m fine. Some cardio’s good for me.” Foggy huffs when a cab pulls up to the curb. “Alright, but only because you insist.”

They ride down to the waterfront and end up at the rail. The East River stretches out in front of them, but Matt’s gaze doesn’t stay there long. He cranes his head heavenward and lets the sight of the stars fill him. Small specks of light twinkling against a navy blanket, the moon a beacon overhead. It’s breathtaking, perfect. Completely new and different to how he thinks he remembers it as a child. The sky seems bigger now, more vast, more limitless. Matt works himself into exhaustion trying to see it all, measure it all, lock it all away for when it’s gone.

“Will it be hard,” Foggy asks, “Going back?”   
  
Matt shakes his head. “No. But it is nice while it lasts.”   
  
Foggy smiles, and Matt’s filled with the strange competing sensation of joy and longing. He loves the sight; he’ll remember it forever. But there is something to be said about the way he’s learned to hear Foggy’s grin, to feel it, sensing it even when he can’t see it happening.

They turn their gazes back to the water.

“So…”

Oh, no. Matt knows where this is going even without hearing Foggy’s heart. He isn’t ready. He has no idea what to say. It’s hard to remember what he feels like in his own body as he explores how he feels in Luke’s.

Foggy draws a deep breath: “About you not feeling anything.”   
  
“It’s not-“ but Matt has no idea what to say next. He doesn’t know what it is, much less what it isn’t. “I feel things, Foggy. Danny’s concerned because I don’t feel things as acutely as him. And let’s be fair, nobody feels things as acutely as Danny.”

“Does it feel weird now? Being in Luke?”   
  
“Foggy-“

“It does, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, it does. Of course, it does. This isn’t me.”   
  
“Does it feel better?”   
  
“It feels different.”   
  
“Different, how?”   
  
“Just…different.”   
  
“Do you feel more things?”   
  
“Different,” Matt says. “I…Luke doesn’t have the same reach with his senses. It’s distracting to know that there are sirens out there that I can’t hear, people that I don’t know need help. But I’m also…it’s easier to disassociate from that? Luke’s focus is much more on the present moment. I can…let go. I can…accept things.”

He draws a breath, and for once, it isn’t to induce a meditative calm. It’s because he feels calm. Because Luke is hard-wired for one foot in front of the other, to exist in this moment but also progress to the next. It’s admirable, really. Enviable. One more experience for Matt to take with him before returning to a body that can’t seem to stand down.

Foggy still isn’t talking. Matt doesn’t know why. The silence drags on between them, demanding words, explanation. Or maybe he’s imagining it. He doesn’t know, can’t know, so he speaks, hoping this time he’ll find what Foggy’s looking for: “The way my senses work, I need to be in control. I need to…put up defences.”

“Defences don’t stop you from feeling things.”   
  
“I feel things,” Matt says.

“Do you feel happy?”

“Yes, of course, I feel happy.”   
  
“All the time?”   
  
“No one’s happy all the time.”   
  
“But do you…” Foggy groans. He’s having trouble with this conversation, and Matt doesn’t blame him. He doesn’t know what’s being asked or how to answer. “Danny’s worried about you. Does he have a reason to be worried?”   
  
“No,” Matt says.

Foggy sighs.

That sound, Matt recognizes: “What?”   
  
Another sigh, but this time, Foggy explains, “You not feeling things, or feeling things less, or feeling things differently, maybe it’s not a problem. Or maybe it’s only not a problem because you’ve learned how to cope.”

“I am the way I have to be.”   
  
“Are you? Because it sounds like you’re having a good time tonight.”   
  
“I am, Foggy. I…I’m happy.” Markedly, uncomplicatedly so. The only demons clawing at him are his own, and they have to be imaginary. Luke has his own demons, but they don’t seem to be getting in the way of the soft, warmth washing through Matt.

“Happy like Matt Murdock? Or happy like Luke Cage?”

“Both, I guess.”   
  
Foggy considers this. He sighs again. “I just worry about you. You deserve to feel good things, Matt. And you deserve to feel them without having to be body-swapped.”   
  
Matt finds himself nodding despite himself. He isn’t really agreeing with Foggy. He doesn’t have to agree with Foggy. “Yeah.”   
  
“Can we talk more about this? When you’re back in your own body?”   
  
“I don’t really want-“

“Please. Please? For me, okay? Can you do this for me?”

Again, Matt finds himself nodding. “Okay.”

Foggy seems satisfied with that. He looks back out at the water. “So what you do want to see next?”   
  
“I want to watch the sunrise,” Matt admits, all too happy to leave the previous conversation behind. “You don’t have to stay.”

“No, it’s good. I want to see the sunrise too.” Foggy scopes out a bench a short distance away, and they walk there, settling in for the show. The breeze rushes in off the Hudson, and Matt closes his eyes, marveling at sparks of light dancing against the darkness behind the lids. He can’t figure out which way the wind is going or pick apart the smells or track the cars on the street behind him, but he can appreciate the light show playing out in front of him. He can sink into the warmth of Foggy pressed against his arm. He can enjoy the simple pleasure of opening his eyes and seeing the world.

He blinks, heaviness mounting in his heart from darkness giving way to light, no matter how scant. He glances at Foggy and lets his lips curve into a small smile, but suddenly, he stops, unable to finish. His lips fall back into a flat line, and he turns back to the river.

“You okay?” Foggy asks.

“Yeah,” Matt says. His chest feels tight. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“What is it?”   
  
“Nothing,” but he can’t help himself from spilling his guts a second later. It’s not nothing. “I just…I remember…” he skips over the day of the accident with another blink, his heart pounding from the distant memory of the sky fading to black. Of waking in the hospital. No, Matt wants before. He goes back to before. “I remember the feel of my dad’s face but I…I can’t remember what it looks like, and I Just…”

“You wish your dad was here.”   
  
Matt nods. He wipes at the tear crawling down his cheek. Luke’s cheek. “Yeah.”

Foggy’s arms stretches behind his back. Matt sighs with relief and amazement when his skin doesn’t crawl from the contact, when his body doesn’t instinctively hunch into itself. He laughs instead, because Foggy’s arm doesn’t quite make it all the way to his other side.

The sun begins peeking over the horizon. Matt swallows, breathes. The band on his chest gets tighter and tighter. Something swells inside him, building with every new colour that’s added to the sky: purple, pink, white, blue. He blinks, tears fresh on his lashes. Foggy reminds him not to look directly at the sun, and Matt is behooved to have to look away, because there it is, cloudless and perfect. Darkness giving way to sky, and if he holds his eyes straight, if he looks up and away, he can imagine that sun is his father’s face, that the reason he can’t remember is because he can’t look directly at it. But it’s there. It’s there with him, and it’s been there inside of him the whole time.

* * *

Happy Reading!


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